Midnight
by stxrpixel
Summary: In which Saeran walks in in the midst of one of the panic attacks MC has never told anybody about. Post-Seven's route, though nobody is dating.


It's not that you're an illogical person; you _know_ , truthfully, that you're in the living room. You can feel the scratchy blanket around your knees and the stiff throw pillow beneath your lower back. Even in the dark, you can make out the shapes of the books on the coffee table beside you, haphazardly strewn about in Saeyoung's usual frenzied nature.

What you're unsure of is why you're even here in the first place, and if you're even here at all.

 _Damn it_. It always happens too fast. You thought you would be okay for a night while Saeyoung was out of town for work. It's not as though you weren't a responsible adult, after all. But as soon as your head had hit the pillow, the sheer _emptiness_ of the house hit you hard. There was no sound of Saeyoung's keyboard going deep into the night. Saeran was unusually quiet as well; most nights you could hear him tossing and turning from his own room. If he were here, you might consider asking him for company.

Or maybe not.

In any case, the all-too familiar feeling of panic swept over you quickly. You squeezed your eyes shut tighter, willing it all away. Your fingers drummed the mattress restlessly. _Comeoncomeoncomeonjustletmesleep…_

Some strange feeling was creeping up your body, and without thinking too much about why, you found yourself swiftly rising with a blanket clutched tightly to you and laying across the couch in the living room. _Maybe I just need to move to another spot_ , you thought.

But here you are now, uncomfortable on a couch that was never intended for a full night's rest, the panic gripping your throat. The seconds stretch into eternities as a heaviness claws at your lungs. Tears spring to your eyes, and you blink into the darkness of the living room.

You hadn't told anybody about these panic attacks. It's not that you thought anybody would mock you or treat the incidents with disbelief; the problem was, every time you lost yourself in the chaos brewing, you felt so incredibly _small_. The thought of anybody seeing you that way, especially when they regarded you as strong-willed, set off a different kind of panic you wished you could dispel. This was not the answer, you knew, but you couldn't bring yourself to show anybody yet.

The sound of keys in the front door puts everything into a sudden, sharp clarity. _Is Saeyoung home early?,_ you wonder, allowing yourself a bit of hope.

You turn to greet him, stopping when you see with the split-second of outside light that it's in fact Saeran. Whatever tiny relief you had built up in that moment disappears, replaced by confusion. Isn't Saeran already in his room?

Sensing your movement as he closes the door behind him, Saeran flinches. He freezes momentarily, then leans forward ever-so-slightly to squint at you in the dark. "MC?" he asks, sounding just as confused as you feel.

"Saeran." Your voice comes out barely above a whisper. The panic is rapidly closing around your throat and you don't have much volume left to offer. "I thought… I didn't know you were out."

There is a moment of hesitation before he slowly walks to the small lamp on the other side of the couch and flicks it on. You blink at the sudden light as little black dots dance in your vision..

"What are you doing on the couch?" he asks, glaring down at you.

You pause, considering how to answer. It must look pretty strange to see you on the couch when you have your own bed and the house to yourself. On top of that, you're not entirely sure how to talk to Saeran. Since living with you and Saeyoung, he's responded to both you and his brother with either silence or a grunt. You've tried your best to get him to open up, but he always retreats into himself with a scoff.

"I had a nightmare," you say. As soon as it's out of your mouth, you mentally scold yourself for such a lame answer.

Saeran picks up on it as well; one eyebrow shoots upward. "Oh? So you came out here to have nightmares instead?"

Maybe it's the fact that your heart has been racing nonstop for the past hour with no relief, or maybe it's that _this_ is the most he's spoken to you in weeks, but you feel yourself become defensive. "So what if I did?"

"It's stupid, that's what."

"Well, it's what I want to do, so…"

The two of you keep your eyes locked on each other for several long seconds. You hold your breath, willing your heartbeat to slow down, for your hands to stop shaking, for your eyes to stay dry, and most of all, for him not to notice.

Finally, he sighs. "Goodnight, I guess." Without another word, he clicks the lamp off and walks out of the room. You release a shaky breath and fall back against the throw pillow. You had no idea it would be this exhausting talking to someone else during one of these attacks. You feel completely drained, and it hadn't even been a minute.

Here, in the safety of the dark, you allow tears of frustration to escape. Why won't this stop? Once you start crying, you can't stop, and tiny sobs fill the living room for the next few minutes.

"Count to ten, slowly."

The voice startles you so bad, you jolt upright. Saeran's figure is standing beside the couch, looking down at you. When had he come back into the room?

"W-what?"

He walks around and sits beside you, careful not to sit too close or touch you. "Take a deep breath, and count to ten."

You do as you're told, taking the time to think of an excuse for why you've been crying in the dark. He presses something cold into your hands. You hadn't realized he was holding anything.

"Drink this," he says gently. His voice has a softness to it you've never heard before. "You have to stay hydrated, alright?"

The cold water clears a bit of the fuzziness from your head. You pass the empty glass back to him. He watches you carefully. Slowly, he nudges at the blanket wrapped around your knees. Understanding, you pull it up to your chest. The shivers don't stop completely, but you feel warmer.

"I get them, too. Sometimes I get them multiple times a week." His voice is so low, you're not sure if he's speaking at first. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to… but don't endure it alone."

You nod slowly. "…okay."

"Try to count slowly for a bit to regulate your breathing, and then maybe try getting some sleep. I know it's easier said than done, but you'll feel back to normal in the morning."

You fix your eyes somewhere upward and begin to count. In your mind, you try to visualize yourself letting go of small weights with each breath. A new fuzziness comes to claim you, but this time it is not filled with disorientation and fear; this time, a warmth envelops you as you mercifully fall into the hands of sleep.

Saeyoung almost loudly announces his return in the morning, but a curious sight stops him as he makes his way through the front door. There you are on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket, your face red and puffy. On the other side of the couch, curled up in peaceful sleep, is his brother. His mouth hangs open in his signature indication of a deep sleep that only comes with being up too late. Saeyoung feels a smile make his way to his face. He's not entirely sure what happened last night, but a growing peace inside tells him things will change for the better in this house.

* * *

 **A/N:** This was honestly written as a way to combat my own incoming panic attack that's been plaguing me all day long. Sorry if it's written a bit strangely or incoherently! Gotta love those panic-induced brain fogs. :')


End file.
